The New Blood Program
by canticum lunae
Summary: The war against Lord Voldemort has finally ended, and the Wizarding World appears to be at peace. But what happens when Hermione starts a program to give Death Eaters a second chance, and how does it completely backfire? And then, there's the issue of getting her parents home from Australia….
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Although the word count is currently small,** **I have this story planned out as a multi-chapter fic. If you're looking for a quick read, you may find it on the slower side at this point, but if you enjoy longer fics, please stick around!**

 **Disclaimer: Sadly, I own nothing in this story that you recognize from the Harry Potter** **series.**

* * *

The war had finally ended, and nearly everything in Hermione Granger's life was perfect. She no longer had to worry about the safety of the people she cared about, laws had been passed to give house elves more rights, and all of Lord Voldemort's supporters had been rounded up, and were awaiting trial.

That was one of the things that worried her. The Auror Office had done a very thorough job, and had arrested anyone, and everyone who had been involved with the dark side, provided they were of age. Only Narcissa Malfoy had been set free, after Harry had vouched for her personally, as she had saved his life during the Battle of Hogwarts. The result of this was there were hardly any pure-bloods left, which was bound to cause a disaster when the remaining children turned to marrying close relations in order to keep their family lines going.

That was what had gotten her here, in the weekly meeting of the Post-war Reconstruction Committee, about to propose her idea to all of the most important wizards of The Ministry, including the minister himself. Her plan was highly controversial, and she knew that someone was bound to disagree with her, but she had made it this far, so there was no sense in stopping now.

"Kingsley," Hermione said, addressing the Minister of Magic, "I have a proposal to make."

"Excellent, go ahead," Kingsley asked, reshuffling his papers. Hermione smiled inwardly. Her ideas typically were rather excellent.

Hermione took a deep breath. "I propose, that we do something to give those convicted of working with Lord Voldemort a second chance." Ron, seated across from her, muttered something to Harry, seated on his left. Hermione stared pointedly at him until he noticed, and was silent.

"I see. What exactly is your reasoning behind this?" Kingsley asked, looking a bit taken aback by Hermione's odd suggestion.

"I was thinking we could give them the opportunity to go free, if they marry a muggle born," Hermione said quickly, staring intently at the blank expanse of wall over Ron's head. "The problem is, if we sent every single one of Lord Voldemort's supporters to Azkaban, there would still be many pure-bloods who are opposed to marrying below their blood status, and this could cause all sorts of inbreeding issues, due to the decrease in available families for them to marry into. I don't know this for sure, not being one myself, but I think many of the pure-bloods, from very old families, who are very proud of their heritage, would rather marry their siblings than see their family die out."

She paused, to look around at the reactions of her colleagues. Many of them wore stunned expressions, but a few of them were nodding as though they understood. Harry gave her a small smile, as if encourage her, and she continued. "What I am suggesting is that we give the younger supporters, the ones who have just come of age within the last few years, the option to either marry a muggle born, or spend the rest of their days in Azkaban."

The room erupted in murmurs and Hermione felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Her idea had sounded much more genius when it was in her head.

"Hermione," Ron said skeptically, "How do you think that any of them would ever agree to this?"

"If they're desperate enough–"

"I know, but can you honestly see Malfoy marrying a muggle born?"

"I dunno," Harry said, "I think he might, if he's really desperate. Fred and George–"

There was an awkward moment of silence as Harry realized what he had just said. He continued cautiously, watching Ron, "George said that Malfoy was terrified of the dementors."

"Exactly." Hermione said, glad that someone was on her side.

"Quiet, please!" Kingsley announced in his deep, carrying voice. "I think that the best way to settle this is to have a vote. All in favor of Miss Granger's proposal?"

Kingsley raised his hand. So did Harry, along with half of the room's occupants. Without Hermione voting, everything rested on Ron. If he voted for her, she would win, and if not–

Hermione sighed with relief as Ron winced and finally raised his hand. Harry must have kicked him under the table. She didn't know what she would do without him.

"Excellent." Kingsley said. "We are out of time, but Hermione, I would like to meet with you tomorrow, to work out the further details."

"Yes," Hermione agreed, completely ecstatic that her little idea was actually going to be turned into something real.

* * *

"Why did you hesitate so long before voting for my proposal?" Hermione asked Ron.

They were on their lunch break with Harry, and Ginny, who had joined them since she was home from school. Hogwarts had ended its final term early, so there would be enough time to rebuild the school before the students returned in the fall.

"I don't have anything against your idea," Ron said, his mouth full of sandwich, "I just don't think that it's going to work." He swallowed. "Really Hermione, It's like spew all over again."

"Not spew, it's S.P.E.W.. And it's doing rather well now, as you know, Ronald." He was silent for a moment, then stood up and stretched. "Harry, I think we had better get back."

"Okay," Harry said, not wanting to get caught in the middle of an argument. "I guess I'll see you later Ginny?" Ginny gave Harry a quick peck on the cheek, and he turned slightly pink.

"Yeah, see you, Harry." Ginny shook her head, grinning in spite of herself.

"I wish Ron and I had a relationship like yours," Hermione said, when Harry and Ron were out of earshot.

"I know." Ginny said, "You two bicker like an old married couple, and you're not even engaged."

"Slow down a bit," Hermione said, mortified. She opened her mouth, then closed it again, trying to find the right words. "Honestly, I don't really know if this is working out for me. I mean, when I see you and Harry, like just now…. Ron hasn't even kissed me in four days."

"I see what you mean, Harry's really sweet, and he can be a bit tactless sometimes, but Ron is just… Ron," Ginny finished lamely.

"I've been thinking of talking to him about this," Hermione continued, "But I'm a little worried it would ruin our friendship, and I would also feel bad about sticking Harry in the middle of another one of our arguments."

"But… if it would make you happier… Hermione, you should dump him, and find someone who actually deserves you; someone much more… mature."

Ginny did have a point. Hermione felt a sudden surge of independence. "You know what, you're right. It is time I take matters into my own hands– I'll talk to him now. I don't have anything on my schedule for another half-hour, and I'm pretty sure he was just trying to get away from me when he said he had to go."

"Good luck." Ginny said, giving Hermione a hug. "I should probably go check on George, I promised I'd help him in the shop today. He gets so lonely sometimes, especially now that–" Ginny paused, and once again the the mention of Fred hung in the air above them, more ominously than if Ginny had spoken her brother's name aloud.

Hermione hurried to break the silence, in an overly cheerful tone. "He's been happier lately, now that he's dating Angelina, isn't he?"

"Yes, but she's very busy with quidditch training," Ginny replied, obviously grateful for the change of subject. "She's been good for him, though. Anyway, I'll see you later, Hermione."

"Bye, Ginny."

* * *

By the time Hermione had reached the door to the Auror Office, she had formulated a simple plan. She would have to be firm, in order to get her point across, but Ron was still one of her best friends and she cared about his feelings. More importantly, it wouldn't be a good idea to start a duel in the middle of the Ministry, especially when surrounded by highly trained aurors.

"Ron?" Hermione asked, entering his cubicle.

"Oh, hullo Hermione." Ron stood up and turned to face her.

"I… er... was wondering if I could talk to you about something?" She asked.

"Actually," Ron said, "I wanted to apologize about earlier." He stuck his hands in his pockets and looked down at his feet. "I think your idea could work, and I just don't feel like giving the people who killed my brother a second chance at life… if you understand what I mean."

Hermione was shocked; it was one of the few times he had apologized for something. It made her regret was she was about to do even more.

"I'm not asking you to forgive any of them. It's okay. I want to talk to you about something." She repeated gently.

"Okay, what is it?" He gazed at her expectantly. Hermione felt slightly sick.

"Listen, Ron, I want you to know, this is nothing against you, but I don't think our relationship is working out." His face fell, and Hermione continued. "I just think we'd be better off as friends."

"Is there someone else? If you'll tell me what the problem is I can try to–"

"Ron, I'm sorry, but I just don't think it's going to work." She tried to hug him, but he kept his arms pressed firmly to his sides. "Listen, I love you, but I just think we'd both be better off with someone else…." She blinked away the tears starting to well up in her eyes.

"Okay?" She asked.

"Yeah."

"I'll see you tomorrow then." She gave him a small smile.

"Bye, Hermione."

Hermione gave her now former boyfriend a small wave, then turned slowly and walked away, but not before the sound of shattering glass met her ears. She winced. Well, at least he had kept his temper while he was talking to her.

* * *

 **A/N: Please review! I am open to any constructive criticism you may have.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Chapter two! This is a little shorter than the first one, but I'm still in the midst of working out an update schedule. Hopefully I'll be able to add a new chapter each week (give or take a few days).**

 **Disclaimer: Harry Potter and the rest of the Wizarding World belongs to J.K. Rowling.**

* * *

After the battle of Hogwarts, with no prospect of finishing the school year, Hermione and Harry had both stayed at the Burrow for a week or so, after starting their jobs at the Ministry.

When she and Harry decided that they shouldn't take advantage of Mrs. Weasley's boundless hospitality any longer, he moved into number twelve Grimmauld Place, while Hermione returned to her parents' old house. She hated how lonely it was without them there, so she was staying with Harry until their return, and helping him to continue fixing up the old house, as he had never been very good at spells of the housework variety.

When Hermione arrived home that evening, she found Harry in the kitchen, already eating dinner.

"Oh, hey Hermione," he said, looking up from the remains of his steak and kidney pie. "You're home late."

"I know," she said, sitting down across from him. "I suppose I lost track of time. I had a lot of work to do."

"I would have waited for you," he said, sliding a slice of pie across the table, "But I wasn't sure when you'd be getting back."

"It's fine," Hermione said, taking a bite. The pie was cold, but she didn't really feel like asking Kreacher to reheat it this late at night.

"Hermione," Harry said, the trepidation evident in his voice, "Could I talk to you about something?"

"Of course," she replied, while silently praying, _please let it not be about Ron_ , _please let it not be about Ron._

"It's about Ron."

"Oh."

"That's all, just 'oh?'"

"Well, what do you want me to say, Harry?"

"I dunno," he glanced down at his plate, then back up to meet her gaze. "Ron told me you broke up with him."

"I did," she replied.

"Hermione, he's er... well… he's devastated."

"What do you mean?"

"He's just lost his brother, and then you break up with him—it's just—I thought you, of all people, would be more considerate."

"Harry, you don't need to get mixed up in this, it's between me and Ron."

"Yes, I do."

"Harry…" She put her face in her hands.

"He's my best mate. Besides," Harry lowered his voice slightly, "You know how he gets."

Hermione finally snapped. "Harry, honestly, it's not like I told him I'd never speak to him again, I just told him that I thought our relationship wasn't working out."

Harry didn't say anything for a long time. He finally stood up and reached into the pocket of his robes.

"This came for you." He said, placing an envelope on the table. "Muggle post. I think I'll go to bed now."

"I'm sorry I got angry," Hermione said quietly.

Harry sighed. "It's okay. I shouldn't have pushed you."

Hermione picked up the envelope as he trudged out of the room. It had been sent through the muggle post, and the return address was for her parents' house in Australia. She felt her breath catch in her throat as she opened the envelope, only to see another inside.

She pulled it out, realizing it was the letter she had sent to her parents more than two weeks ago. She had charmed it so they would remember everything when they read the letter inside, but the seal on the envelope was unbroken.

Feeling a sense of panic, she pulled out the letter that had been inclosed in the first envelope, and began to read.

 _Dear Ms. Wilkins,_

 _We received your letter, but the couple you are trying to reach (I assume they are relatives of yours) have moved, and sold us their house._

 _They didn't leave any sort of forwarding address, so my husband and I thought it best to send your letter back to you._

 _I'm sorry we aren't able to tell you anything else._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Noelle Stevens_

Hermione felt a sob rise in her throat. Why did everything have to go wrong on the same day? She hadn't considered that her parents would move after less than a year in Australia, so she had no idea where they would have gone.

Perhaps the spell had broken on its own, and they returned to their old house, where they were caught by Death Eaters. Or maybe the Death Eaters had caught up with them in Australia. There was a host of possible worse-case scenarios.

She wished for the second time that she hadn't fought with Harry earlier, and that she had both her best friends to help her figure this out.

 _It wouldn't make much difference_ , _though_ , she thought, smiling slightly to herself. She already knew how both of them would react.

Harry would tell her _not to let this stop her_ , and to _keep searching for her parents_ , and Ron would say that _she could think her way out of this_ , which—she realized at that moment—was just what she would have to do.

Anyway, she had to prepare for her meeting with Kingsley, first thing in the morning, and didn't have any time to spare if she didn't want to make a fool of herself in front of the whole committee.

She pulled a fresh piece of paper out of one of the kitchen drawers, and began to write.

* * *

After stopping at the muggle post office the next morning, to mail her letter to the Australian Ministry, Hermione headed straight to Kingsley's office, located on the first level of the Ministry of Magic.

She had been working into the early hours of the morning, to ensure that everything would be perfect, but instead of feeling tired, she felt rather exhilarated.

She knocked on the door to the minister's office, then waited to hear him call her in before pushing open the door.

"Good morning, Hermione," Kingsley said, shuffling some papers on his desk, "Take a seat. I'm interested to hear the rest of your plan"

She sat down in one of the chairs in front of his desk, and took out the large stack of notes she had made the previous night.

"Okay," she took a deep breath. "So we know we want to reduce the pure-blood saturation of the wizard gene pool by getting more pure-bloods open to marrying muggle-borns. Of course, many of them won't be willing to do this, so that's why we can offer them amnesty as an incentive."

Kingsley nodded thoughtfully, encouraging Hermione.

"That's only the basics of my plan so far," she continued. "We'd need a way for pure-bloods to overcome their prejudices, and realize that they aren't any different from muggle-borns."

"I see," Kingsley said. "How are you planning to do this? "

"It's just an idea, but I've been thinking we should set up a sort of dating program, where pure-bloods and muggle-borns would matched up perfectly, based on personality, common interests, et cetera. Of course, all participants would be screened prior to this, so only pure-bloods who aren't deemed a danger to the public would be involved."

"I like it," Kingsley said. "It's very unconventional, and a little idealistic, but I definitely think it's worth a try."

"Thank you," Hermione said, beaming. "I was thinking of heading the project up myself, if I could be given the extra time to work on it."

"Of course," Kingsley said. "You'll probably need an assistant, though."

"That would be helpful," Hermione agreed. "Do you have anyone in mind at the moment?"

"Not currently," Kingsley said, "But I would check with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. It would be good to have an expert on the project."

"Thank you," Hermione said. "Here's a copy of my basic plans so far," she handed him a heavy folder, which was filled with papers. "Is that everything, then?"

"I did have one more question," Kingsley said. "Did you have a name in mind for this project?"

"I did," Hermione said. "The New Blood Program."

* * *

 **A/N: Thanks for reading! Reviews are greatly appreciated.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the property of J.K. Rowling.**

* * *

After making an inquiry in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Hermione managed to find someone else willing to work on the project; Audrey Edwards, a former Ravenclaw who had been at Hogwarts a few years ahead of Hermione, Harry and Ron.

Over the past week, the two had worked tirelessly, sorting out all of the details of the New Blood Program, finalizing the legal information and planning the dinner where the pure-bloods and muggle-borns would get to know each other.

"So, this is it," Audrey said, as the two young women stood outside the _Daily Prophet_ office in Diagon Alley.

"Yes, I suppose it is," Hermione said, sliding the finished announcement through the slot next to the door. "And by tomorrow morning, everyone will know."

* * *

"No way in hell," Draco Malfoy muttered, nearly dropping _The Prophet_ into his breakfast. The Ministry certainly did intend to make former Death Eaters suffer.

"What was that?" Narcissa Malfoy asked, giving her son an appraising look.

"Nothing, mother." Draco handed the paper over to her. "Look at this."

Narcissa read the headline, and Draco watched his mother's eyes widen in shock as she scanned the rest of the article. She finished reading, then slowly placed the paper down on the table.

"Well," she said. "This is certainly an unexpected turn of events."

Draco stared at his mother in disbelief. "You can't be suggesting that I'd—"

"I'm not telling you to sign up right now, but it's definitely worth your consideration," Narcissa said. "I don't like this—" She gestured towards the newspaper "—any more than you do, but if you stand trial in front of the Wizengamot next week like you're supposed to, you have a very small chance of getting out of Azkaban."

"Yes, but you can't possibly be suggesting that I would tarnish the family name for a get-out-of-jail-free card," Draco said. "Anyway, if I talk to the right people, there's a good chance that I could stay out on my own."

"Draco," Narcissa sighed, her tone becoming more serious, "This is not a game. We have already lost your father, and I am willing to do _anything_ to ensure that the same doesn't happen to you."

"That may be true, but you're not the one who'd have to dirty the family name by marrying a _mudblood_ ," Draco retorted.

"Don't you think the family name has been dirtied enough by our involvement with the Dark Lord?" Narcissa asked. "We've tried to hold onto the old ways for so long that it's bringing about our downfall. Obsession with blood purity is what's causing all the old families to die out, and it will happen to the Malfoys too, if you're stuck in Azkaban for the rest of your life!"

Draco stared at his mother in shock. It was rare for her to ever raise her voice, let alone at him. She was usually above petty squabbles, and prefered to solve disagreements more diplomatically.

"I didn't know that you felt that way," Draco said, carefully, then paused. "Have you been talking to _Andromeda_ again?"

"Yes," Narcissa said, "And I'll remind you that her grandson is the one who will inherit this house when you go to Azkaban, since you show no desire to stay in possession of it!"

"Well, maybe I'd be a little more motivated if I knew some half-breed brat were going to rob me of my inheritance."

Narcissa suppressed a smile. "I want you to apply. You have nothing to lose, and we don't even know if they'd accept you at this point."

"Fine," Draco acquiesced, then started as a thought struck him. "Wait. What about Astoria?"

"You'll have to explain the situation to her," Narcissa said.

Draco rolled his eyes. "We've been betrothed since we were children. Am I supposed to say, 'Oh, sorry Astoria, I know we've been betrothed forever, but I can't marry you now, because I have to marry a muggle-born or else rot for all eternity in Azkaban?'"

"Well, you can't very well marry her, and expect her to wait until you get out of Azkaban—if you ever did." Draco was silent, and Narcissa continued. "I'll ask the Greengrasses over for tea this afternoon. The sooner you tell her, the better. Although I do hope—for your sake—that you can think of a better way to phrase it."

* * *

Draco spent the rest of the morning and early afternoon sifting through the massive pile of paperwork he received in the packet which accompanied the announcement in the newspaper, all the while cursing The Ministry of Magic, his mother, and whatever idiot was behind this _New Blood Program_.

By the time he had filled out the third roll of parchment asking stupid questions about his favorite color, quidditch team, and flavor of ice cream, it was already time for tea.

His mother received Mr. and Mrs. Greengrass on the terrace, while Draco and Astoria went for a stroll through the extensive gardens at the rear of the Manor.

"I assume you have a reason for inviting us over at such short notice," Astoria said, as they entered a small courtyard. She perched on the edge of a marble bench, and gazed up at Draco expectantly. Draco couldn't help but stare. Her green dress bought out the color of her eyes, and her dark, silky hair shone in the sunlight. _She was_ , Draco thought, _the picture of good breeding and pure-blood high society._

"I do, actually," Draco said, taking the spot beside her. "There isn't really a right way to say this," he paused. "I assume you saw the headline of _The Prophet_ this morning?"

Astoria nodded, sensing where he was going with this. "Are you going to try to get out of Azkaban?"

"My mother says it's my best chance to stay out of jail."

Astoria caught his gaze. "Do you agree with her?"

"I think she's right," Draco said. "I wanted to talk to you about it, though. This betrothal is an agreement between both of our families, but more importantly, between the two of us."

"I see," Astoria said.

Draco continued. "If I were to choose that path, we'd have to break off the betrothal, and I'd have to marry a _mudblood_. If not, there's still the trial in a week, and I have a small chance of being able to marry you instead."

"Draco," Astoria said, with a small smile, "I wouldn't want you to risk going to Azkaban just for the sake of making a good marriage." She reached out to take his hand. "I think we both know that in any trial, the odds would be swayed heavily against you. Don't misunderstand me—I don't really want to let you go, but I'd rather have you marry someone else, even a muggle-born, than live out your life in Azkaban. If this is your only chance to have the rest of your life, I think you should take it."

"Are you completely sure?" Draco asked. "There's still a chance—"

She cut him off by placing a gentle kiss on his cheek. "I'm positive."

"Alright." Draco said, smiling slightly in spite of himself, and the two stood up. He met Astoria's gaze a final time. "You're sure you'll be happy?"

"I'll be fine," she said. "And I'm sure you will too, eventually. There are plenty of muggle-borns who would be lucky to have you." She paused. "You might just want to erase the word 'mudblood' from your vocabulary, though."

* * *

 **A/N: Thanks for reading, constructive criticism is appreciated!**


	4. Chapter 4

When Hermione entered that week's Reconstruction Committee meeting, she was surprised to see a few heads turn in her direction. The Prophet hadn't publicly announced she was the one behind the New Blood Program, but apparently, word of her work with the project had spread. She took the seat that Audrey had saved for her, as they waited for the rest of the committee members to arrive.

Hermione yawned. She had been up late the previous night, planning for her presentation.

"Late night?" Audrey asked, smiling.

" _Working_ , yes," Hermione said, laughing. "I'm glad to be doing this, but I'll definitely be happy when all this initial prep work is over."

"We should be able to finish sorting through the applicants today." Audrey said. "Then we can start matching people up."

"The fun part," Hermione said, suppressing a second yawn.

Kingsley called the meeting to order, and various members presented the progress they were making on their respective projects. Representing the Auror office, Ron announced that the Aurors had caught two more Death Eaters in the past week, who had been evading capture for a while, which left most of them on trial.

"Except for those in _the program, of course_ ," he finished, with a pointed glance at Hermione. She avoided his gaze.

Then followed a presentation on the progress in rebuilding Hogwarts Castle, and all too soon, it was Hermione's turn.

"The program is going very well so far." Hermione addressed the room at large. "We've had about fifteen applicants, a few of which we've had to decline, but I think most applicants have applied with the intent to right their past wrongs."

A committee member raised their hand, and Hermione nodded to them to ask their question.

"Who's to say that they're not still dangerous?"

"Well," Hermione said, a little startled. "All the applicants go through a very strenuous screening process. It's true that most of them had Death Eater involvement, but we've had all of them fill out interview forms, and have reviewed their files, which we can thank the auror department for." She looked to Harry, and he nodded, smiling.

Hermione felt a jolt as Ron raised his hand. She cast her gaze around the room for anyone else to call on, but saw no one. "Yes?" Hermione asked.

"What will happen if an applicant proves to be 'dangerous' later on in the process?"

"Well," Hermione said. "We're planning to evaluate that on a case-by-case basis, and hopefully it won't happen, but I imagine we would revoke all amnesty."

Ron settled back in his chair, looking rather pleased with himself.

"Thank you, Hermione," Kingsley said, and the rest of the room applauded her, with less reluctance than before.

* * *

After the meeting, when Hermione was tidying up her notes from the morning, she was surprised to see Ron approach her.

"Hi," she said, trying to keep her tone neutral.

"I was wondering if I could talk to you for a moment," Ron said.

"Yes, okay," Hermione said. "Do you want to go in the hallway?" He nodded, and she followed him out of the room.

"Er—Hermione, I was wondering if I did anything to make you break up with me, and if there was anything I could do to fix things?"

"Oh, that." Hermione said, sighing. "Ron, I'm sorry. As cliched as the saying is, it's not you, it's me. I just think we weren't working out."

"I'm sorry I wasn't spending as much time with you," Ron said, "I was busy with work—"

"Ron." Hermione said. "Please don't take this personally. I still care about you a lot, and we can still be friends. I just don't think we should be in a relationship together."

At that moment, Harry, who was passing by, caught Hermione's gaze.

"Sorry if I'm interrupting," He said hurriedly, turning to her. "I forgot to tell you that I'll be home late tonight, so don't bother to keep dinner waiting for me."

"Okay," Hermione said. "Kreacher and I will miss you."

"I'm sure you, will," Harry said, smiling, nodded to the two of them, and walked off.

Ron, who had watched the entire exchange very closely, rounded on Hermione, an odd glint in his blue eyes. He stared at her, as if trying to see _through_ her.

"So," he said slowly, "It's Harry, _isn't it?_ "

"I don't know what you're talking about," Hermione said.

"Don't play dumb," Ron said. "We both know you're smarter than that. You're in love with him, aren't you?"

"What?" Hermione exclaimed. "With _Harry?_ You know it's not like that!"

"Come on Hermione, you _live together._ " Ron glared at her, his face reddening. "Don't expect me to think there isn't something there."

"I'm telling you," Hermione insisted, "It's not like that. He's like a brother to me. You _know_ that. I would never…date him, or anything like that."

Ron appeared unconvinced. "Fine Hermione," he said, stepping back from her. "Have fun with your new _boyfriend_."

"Ron." Hermione said, but he turned and walked away from her. "Ron!" He ignored her and kept walking.

By now, Audrey had come out of the meeting, regarding the scene that met her eyes with confusion, and hurried over to Hermione.

"Are you okay?" Audrey asked her.

Hermione sighed dispiritedly. "Just my messy love life."

"Do you want to talk?" Audrey asked. "We could get coffee—it's nearly lunchtime anyway."

"I'd like that." Hermione smiled.

* * *

"So basically," Hermione reiterated, "He just doesn't get that I'm not romantically interested in him any more, and he thinks there's another reason for it—like the fact that Harry and I are secretly in love with each other, or something like that."

"And you're not?" Audrey asked.

"No." Hermione said. "We're really close, it's true, and we live together, but I've never been _attracted_ to him. He's like a brother to me, and I'm positive he feels the same way."

"Hmmm," Audrey said, stirring her coffee thoughtfully. "I know Ron's older brother," she said. "Percy."

"Really?" Hermione asked.

"We've worked together on a few things. He and Ron seem very different."

"They are," Hermione said. "Ron's the second youngest in his family—he has five older brothers, and a younger sister—most of his brothers have been pretty successful, and I think he struggles with living in their shadows a bit."

"That's understandable." Audrey said. "I think even Percy is worried about his image, as well." She laughed. "Not that I would know that much about siblings—I'm an only child."

"Me too," Hermione said, grinning.

The two of them walked back to the office, where they continued sorting out the applicants, until they got to the bottom of the pile, reaching a name that gave Hermione pause. _Draco Malfoy._

She had sorted through the applications of most of the Slytherins who had been at school when she was, and given most of them a reprieve, but Malfoy was different. The others had done bad things, but he had personally bullied Hermione and her friends throughout their years at Hogwarts.

She hadn't seen him since the battle, when he and his parents had sat awkwardly in the great hall, looking unsure whether or not they should even be there, as their allegiances were so muddled. Narcissa had, however, saved Harry from Lord Voldemort, and without her, the Order would have most likely lost the battle.

Lucius Malfoy had been convicted right away; there was no excusing what he'd done. And Draco had done terrible things as well.

 _But hadn't everyone else?_ A small voice nagged at her.

Suddenly, unbidden, Hermione's mind flashed back to that day in Malfoy Manor, after she, Harry and Ron had been captured by snatchers. She had seen when Malfoy had pretended to be unable to identify Harry. _It was obvious to everyone who he was, even with the stinging hex,_ Hermione thought, wishing she could have done better. And then, her thoughts shifted to Bellatrix, and when she had tortured Hermione for information about the sword of Godric Gryffindor, and her hand went instinctively to the thin scar that was now barely visible, stretching across her neck. It was barely visible, but it was still there.

All of a sudden, a memory floated to the surface of her thoughts. Her time in Malfoy Manor wasn't something she liked to think about, but she remembered now, when Bellatrix had questioned her, Malfoy, unlike his father, and the rest of the Death Eaters present, had been unable to look at her. He had seemed almost to feel for her pain.

So, he had done bad things, but deep down, he was still human. With a sigh, she dropped his file onto the _accepted_ pile.

Aurdrey looked up at the thump. "It that the last one?" She asked.

"Yes, it is," Hermione said.

"The acceptance letters are just about ready to be sent out," Audrey said, straightening a stack of envelopes.

"Great," Hermione said. "Time to play matchmaker."

* * *

Matching up the pure-bloods and muggle-borns proved to be easier than Hermione had thought, and they were finished before late afternoon. There were a few people that had to be reshuffled, a few that seemed to be compatible with more than one person, but they sorted it out, and used the remaining time to make the dinner the best it could be.

However, the day before the dinner provided a problem for them. They had accepted just as many pure-bloods as muggle-borns into the NBP, and when one of the muggle-borns pulled out at the last minute, Theodore Nott was left without a date.

"I should have planned for this!" Hermione exclaimed. "I thought out everything else so much more. If anything else had gone wrong, I would have been prepared."

"It's okay," Audrey said. "We'll figure it out."

"But where are we supposed to find another muggle-born, at such short notice?" Hermione asked.

"I think," Audrey said, "That the answer's staring me in the face."

Hermione was puzzled for a moment, but then smiled as comprehension dawned on her. "This is why we have a real Ravenclaw on the team," she said, smiling. "I should have thought of that."

"You don't have to feel obligated to do it," Audrey said.

"No," Hermione said. "A lot of people will be shuffled up after the first date. Anyway, Theodore Nott was in my year. He's not as bad as some."

"Okay," Audrey said, "If you're sure."

"I'm sure." Said Hermione. Audrey scratched out the corresponding information on the seating chart that would be sent to the restaurant.

"I'll just take this down to the mail room," she said.

"Can I check it over just once more?" Hermione asked.

Audrey laughed. "Go ahead."

* * *

 **A/N: Thank you for reading! Reviews are greatly appreciated :)**


	5. Chapter 5

Draco arrived at the restaurant late on Thursday evening. Normally, he made a point of being punctual—his father had always said that people began making impressions the moment you walked through the door—but this time, he had no desire to give The Ministry's stupid program the slightest idea he was a willing participant.

The restaurant was one of the nicer ones in Diagon Alley, situated near Gringotts and some of the more high-end stores like Twilfit and Tattings. A line had already formed inside the entrance, where several rather nervous-looking mudbloods and former Death Eaters waited to meet their dates.

Draco recognized almost all of the pure-bloods, but he ignored the lot of them. He was only here to collect his get-out-of-jail-free card, and see just how rude he could be without getting thrown out. He glanced toward the front of the line to see a moderately pretty auburn-haired witch directing people to their tables.

He thought of Astoria, and scowled even more.

"Name, please?" She asked.

Draco fought the urge to roll his eyes. He'd bet his inheritance that she knew perfectly well who he was. "Draco Malfoy." He said, assuming his usual air of superiority.

She only raised her eyebrows slightly, consulting her clipboard. "Your date is at table number seven."

Draco nodded, and entered the dining room, thinking that all this might be worth it if his date was hot.

Above each of the tables, a silver number floated in midair. It took him mere seconds to locate number seven, and he was instantly relieved.

From his angle, he couldn't his date's face, but she was definitely very pretty, in a lilac dress, and with long, shining chestnut hair. He walked around the table, extending a hand to introduce himself, and— "Granger?"

It was indeed Hermione Granger. Her eyes widened in shock. "Malfoy?"

"Apparently," Draco said, taking the chair across from her, "I'm your date for tonight." His mind was reeling. _Had he actually just called Hermione Granger hot?_

"I'm afraid there's been a mistake," Hermione said, looking bewildered.

"Well, I'm offended." Draco said, crossing his arms. "I know we've never gotten along, but—"

"Just stay here." Hermione said, and got to her feet, as a waiter brought over a basket of bread sticks. Draco watched in disbelief as she hurried across the room to the auburn-haired witch, and the two began talking in a conspiratorial manner.

They glanced back at Draco, and he gave them a little wave, causing Hermione to roll her eyes noticeably. The two witches shared a few more words, before Hermione returned to the table, looking mildly annoyed, but she composed herself before speaking.

"Well, Malfoy," she said, "As much as the thought frightens me, It looks like we'll be spending the evening together."

" _Wow_ , Granger." Draco laced his hands behind his head. "I thought you were supposed to be a Gryffindor."

"What's that supposed to mean?" She glared at him.

"Isn't there some sort of thing where Gryffindors aren't supposed to be pathetic wimps?"

"Yes." Hermione said. "But you don't understand. I know I'm supposed to be with someone else."

"Who then?" Draco raised his eyebrows.

"Theodore Nott." She said, and Draco glanced over to where Nott was introducing himself to his date.

"Well, that's obviously not happening." Draco said, smirking. "Guess you're stuck with me for the foreseeable future, Granger."

Perhaps this evening would be more fun than he'd thought.

Hermione sighed. "I didn't know you were so eager for redemption," she said, scathingly.

"I'm not." Draco said. "I just heard that Wizard Travels didn't give Azkaban the best reviews."

"Ah." Hermione snorted. "I should have known."

"Why are you here, Granger? I thought I heard you had a thing with Weasley."

She flushed slightly. "It didn't end well."

Draco whistled. "Oh, did he break up with you? Even for you, Granger, I'll admit, that's pathetic."

Hermione grinned at him then. "No, actually, I broke up with him."

"And you wanted to look for a higher caliber of wizard," Draco said. "You've got good taste."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "And you're an arse."

Draco winked at her as a waiter approached with the main course. "Thank you. I'm trying my best."

They were presented with large dishes of chicken and pasta that even Draco had to admit looked delicious.

"This is nice," he said, taking a bite, "But of course it's nothing like the food at home. All prepared by house elves, of course."

"Do you think," Hermione said, "That I could persuade you to let them go?"

"No way in hell, Granger." He replied.

"But you could hire wizards for help. If all the pure-blood families did it, it would create jobs—"

"And the house elves," Draco said, raising an eyebrow, "What would they do then? Their sole purpose in life is to serve."

"They could do other jobs," Hermione insisted.

"Like what?" Draco scoffed.

"I don't know…" Hermione said. "Stuff." She made a vague hand gesture.

Draco gasped in mock surprise. "Have I just stumped the great Hermione Granger?"

"Oh, shut up." Hermione whispered, reddening considerably.

Knowing he had gained an advantage, Draco decided to press the issue.. "So tell me," he said. "What exactly happened with Weasley?"

"I don't know," Hermione sighed. "The spark just wasn't there anymore, so I decided to end it. I thought I was pretty clear, but then, a week or so later, he came back and said he wanted to try again—I don't even know why I'm telling you this."

"Because you're lonely." Draco said, surprising himself with his sincerity.

Hermione gave him a strange look.

He hurried to cover up his mistake. "You know, on the rebound?"

Hermione laughed. "That's _not_ why I'm here."

"Well, why are you here then?" He asked. "It's obviously of your own free will."

Hermione sighed. "You'll probably find out sooner or later, so I suppose I'll just tell you. I actually started this program. I'm only here tonight because I'm filling in for someone."

"You?" Draco asked, stunned. "No, never mind, this has you written all over it."

Hermione seemed to grow even more flustered. "I'm not sure I know what you mean."

"You know," Draco said, "All that Gryffindor nonsense. Didn't you try to start some club to liberate house elves back in fourth year? Spew, or whatever it was?"

"S-P-E-W," Hermione said, through gritted teeth. "And it's not nonsense, I'm helping people."

"Really," Draco said, "When am I supposed to start seeing the benefits?"

"Now, I suppose." Hermione said. "You're not in Azkaban at the moment. It's giving you a second chance."

"It's destroying my dignity!" Draco exclaimed. "If that's the price of freedom, I think I'd rather go to Azkaban."

"Now, that's just stupid," Hermione said.

"But it's okay for you to take over everything with your pro-muggle agenda?"

"Look. Draco," she said, startling him with her use of his first name. "I know this isn't the greatest situation, and I'm sorry things didn't work out tonight, what with you having me as your date, and everything. I officially apologize on behalf of the program."

"How did it get messed up so badly?" Draco asked after a moment. "I would have thought you'd be more organized."

"I don't know," Hermione said, shaking her head. "Everyone was matched up based on compatibility, and I _know_ we weren't together."

"Did someone prank you or something?"

Hermione gave him an odd look.

Draco shrugged. "It's what I would have done, if I had the chance."

"Of course you would," Hermione sighed. "How about this? Come by my office tomorrow morning, and we'll try to figure all of this out."

Draco nodded, and they ate their dessert in a less awkward silence. When they had both finished, Draco stood up.

"Well Granger, I'd have to say this wasn't the best date of my life, but it was certainly one of the _weirdest_."

"Again, I apologize." Hermione said.

Draco shrugged. "I'm over it. When do you get to work? Eight thirty?"

"Nine might be better," Hermione said. "I'd like to see if I can figure out why this happened, and then we'll take our next steps."

"Alright then, Granger. Nine o'clock it is." Draco turned, waving over his shoulder as he walked out of the restaurant.

* * *

After helping to clean up from the evening, Hermione returned home to find the light on in the kitchen, and Harry still hard at work at the table. Various charts and papers were strewn across the surface, all covered in notes.

He looked up when she entered. "How did it go?"

Hermione sighed, fighting the urge to grimace, and kicked off her heels, taking a seat across from him. "It went well enough, I suppose."

"Nott was that bad?" Harry asked.

"I wouldn't know," Hermione said, with a frown. "There was a bit of a mix-up, and I ended up with Malfoy instead."

" _Malfoy_?" Harry asked, incredulous. "How did that happen?"

"We're supposed to figure it out tomorrow morning." Hermione said. "Malfoy thought someone might have messed up the paperwork as a prank, but I don't know how that could have happened."

"Did you leave it anywhere someone could have gotten to it?" Harry asked.

"No, that's the thing. I checked it over three times before it went to the mail room."

"That is odd." Harry frowned in thought. "Ron was working there yesterday, and I think he said he was the only one."

Hermione pondered this, and was struck with a sudden thought. _Ron was in the mail room. Ron might have wanted to sabotage the program from the beginning._

"Harry," Hermione said, biting her lip, "Do you think there's any chance at that Ron has something to do with this?"

"What do you mean?" Harry said. "Do you think _he_ did this?"

Hermione shrunk under his accusation. "Well, it's a possibility, and one that seems the most logical right now. You know, he hasn't exactly been in support of the program." She said.

Harry sighed. "I know that you and Ron aren't exactly getting along right now, but I think that's extreme, even for him. Do you really think he'd do something like that?"

"The problem is," Hermione said, half to herself, "I'm not really sure."

* * *

 **A/N: Thank you for reading!**


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